Superiority Complex
by Dragonlord Stephi
Summary: Small-town diners are destined for big things... Unless an immortal with a rather large ego and an Irken with a big head (in more ways than one) decide to pop in. Saturday and Zim's superiority complexes will not let the other get away unscathed... Co-written with HumanBarricade.


**Superiority Complex**

_**A **__Keys to the Kingdom __**and **__Invader Zim __**Crossover co-written with HumanBarricade**_

It was a cool, sunny morning in a small town with a ridiculous name no one could possibly pronounce, much less spell or even remember. The wind nipped at people's faces, and the crisp smell of leaves hung about in thick layers, as they bustled around to begin the day. To anyone, it looked like the start of another normal, boring, monotonous morning.

But it wasn't destined to be such a morning.

Ah, it must be interesting, you are thinking. No, dear friend. It was not destined to be interesting.

It was doomed to go horribly wrong.

A tall, slim woman, carrying an umbrella despite the bright sun outside, entered the diner. She was really quite a sight, at least six feet and eight inches tall, with long, bright blue hair and icy turquoise eyes. Ignoring stares, and even a patron who instinctively hid under the table as she walked past, she ordered a cup of hot coco and sat at a table by herself.

She pulled out a quill pen and a small, leather-bound notebook, scratching in it despite having no inkwell. When the waitress brought the beverage, she quickly closed it and tucked it in her sleeve (which was so tight it had no possibility of storage). She held the pen in her other hand, not willing to put it away, and picked up the cup, inhaling the coco's pleasant aroma. The woman smiled and took a small sip.

Her eyes widened, and she spit it out all over the floor.

"DISGUSTING filth! How are you serve me, Superior Saturday, Most Supreme Sorcerer of the House, ruler of the Upper House, second in command to Lord Sunday, Deputy of the Secondary Realms, an immortal Denizen who can upset the balance of your pathetic little mortal world with the swish of my pen, who can with one word NUKE YOU TO THE GROUND, who governs the rain everywhere- well, almost everywhere- and who is the eldest being save God- how dare you serve ME _fake _chocolate? And did you even bother putting cream in this, or did you scam me with some sort of watery gruel? WELL? Is no one going to answer the Second in Command of the Universe, inferior humans?"

By now, everyone was staring at her. Some quivered in fear, especially some kid in the corner who kept pushing the button on his inhaler and was probably hyperventilating. Most, however, viewed her as some sort of lunatic, except for the waitress, who was crying because she was certain her manager would somehow take the customer's side and her job would be over. The patron under the table had fainted. An air of stillness hung over the place, in which the woman seemed to grow taller and more stunningly beautiful, commanding power and respect.

The people began to panic.

The silence was immediately broken as a small green boy with abnormally large eyes and rather small blue pupils, black hair smoothed into a strange, bizarre hairdo that defied physics itself and gave Elvis a run for his money, walked in. "I heard someone berating humans," he said. "Therefore, I assumed it was a messenger of the Tallest here to tell me how great I am doing. But no! I was wrong! And now I am severely disappointed. DISSAPPPOINNTEEEDDDD! You're so pathetically uncreative. Is nuking them all you can think of? Heh."

"Are you saying," Saturday hissed, "that I do not know how to adequately punish human scum? And what, pray tell, are you? No, let me answer. You are an… Irken, no? Ah, yes. Unfortunately, we have far too many records of your ridiculous race in the Upper House. Is all you do invade?"

"What? Of course! Invaders' blood flows through my veins, like-"

"Giant radioactive rubber pants, I know. Do not ignore your veins, and lah di dah. You must be…" She squinted. "Zim. Though I thought for sure you were bigger…"

Zim clenched his fists and rose up into the air as he spoke. "How dare you imply that I am… short! What I lack in size, I make up in wit, strength, and superiority!"

"SUPERIORITY? Ha!" Saturday laughed. "How could you think that you, a _small _Irken invader who conquers meaninglessly, could possibly be more superior to me, a _tall _and gorgeous immortal Denizen who practically rules the entire universe? I even have 'Superior' in my title. SUPERIOR Saturday, and your title is just… Invader Zim. It's not even a real title! There is absolutely nothing particularly superior about an invader, or even an Irken, now that I think about it. There isn't ONE OUNCE of superiority in your radioactive rubber pants. Or your veins, for that matter. As for strength and wit… sorry to say, I excel in all those categories as well, which you look like you'd have a hard time doing simple arithmetic and picking up twigs."

"How many planets have YOU successfully invaded?" Zim snarled, not to be outdone.

"You haven't invaded any yourself, pathetic green snot," Saturday shrugged. "I don't invade. That's beneath me. I _interfere, _a little bit here and a little bit there. For example, the Ice Age on this Earth may or may not be my fault, Jupiter's never-ending storms have nothing to do with me, and Wednesday and I _for sure _were not enjoying ourselves a nice relaxing swim while Noah was boarding his Ark. It wasn't my fault, I really had nothing to do with that… though I did lose one of my best umbrellas. I hope an archaeologist never finds that, because that'd be LOADS of paperwork and queries to get Lord Sunday off my case…"

"Who?"

"An idiot who also has a stupid love of the color green. Like you."

"He cannot be as amazing as me, ZZIIIMMMM!"

"What? No, he's absolutely far-" She bit her lip, realizing she had almost DEFENDED Lord Sunday. _That was close. NEVER EVER EVER defend that jerk, _she thought.

"Aha! You are clearly at a loss for words. You are not even a worth foe of ZIM!" The little irken clenched his fists and shook them as he spoke.

The boy who had been hyperventilating was trying to call 911, while a voice through the speaker said, 'Upper House Telephone Service has disconnected this line. Please insert 15 gold Upper House roundels to continue." He frowned in disgust and then glared at Saturday, certain she had somehow messed with his phone.

"I am not a worthy foe? I am the WORTHIEST FOE ALIVE!" she seethed. "My dear boy, the Piper could not withstand me. Lord Sunday will kneel at my feet and beg for mercy!"

"But the Piper's alive, and last I checked, you can't even get into the Gardens," said the boy, at this point reaching for the table salt and silverware. He had heard somewhere that silver and sat was useful against Fetchers. He had no idea if it worked on high-ranking Denizens.

"Aha!" Zim cried in glee. "Fool! So your attempts at invading have failed!"

"So have yours!"

"At least I got to my destination, which is more than you can say! I bet I could blow you up with one hand behind my back!"

"And I bet I could skewer you to a thousand pieces with BOTH my hands tied behind my back, the Sixth Key claimed by that bumbling idiot with the inhaler at the table, and in front of that fool Sunday was well- no, I could do it IN FRONT OF ALL OF TIME AND SPACE. When I'm doing skewering you, I'll feed you slowly to the Nithlings in the Void!"

"Not if I vanquish you here!" Zim screamed.

"Just try," she retorted, raising her quill pen.

"You're going to fight with THAT?" Zim asked, tapping his PAK. It grew several arms, making him look like a little green Doctor Octopus. "I would feel sorry for you, but you deserve what's coming."

"I was about to say the same thing," she sniffed. "First things first… Just to make sure he doesn't interefere…" She wrote 'Silence the Heir' on her skin, and the boy with the inhaler found he couldn't talk.

"That didn't hurt," Zim said.

"That wasn't aimed at you!" she snapped.

Suddenly, a boy with glasses and a giant piece of jet-black hair sticking up out of his slightly big head (much like an antenna) burst into the diner and pointed his finger furiously at Zim. "I know what you're up to," he screeched, "and I'm not going to let you get away with it!" Everyone stared at him, not noticing the girl who walked in and stood next to an abandoned table of frosted donuts.

The Irken looked at the boy in a confused manner and said, "What exactly am I up to?" The boy opened his mouth to reply, but was rudely interrupted by the woman with blue hair.

"Who exactly are you? Do you honestly think you can come in here and interrupt me whilst I am patronizing this stupid little excuse for a sentient being?"

"What? No! I came in here to stop him from destroying the human race. Wait a minute… are you a Denizen? You're a bit tall and too smart to possibly be human."

Saturday smirked, taking the "too smart" as a compliment. "How did you know?"

"Some kid from school, Arthur, has some weird sort-of-goth friend named Leaf with a really big mouth…"

The boy with the inhaler fainted.

"Was it that obvious, Dib, son of Professor Membrane? You of all humans have a peculiarly large file about yourself, yet you're just a child."

The Irken growled and yelled, "ZZIIIMMMMMMMM!" to get the attention he so desired.

Some of the patrons, at this point, ran for the door, abandoning their food and leaving bills unpaid. The girl next to the donuts reached out to grab one, but stopped herself with the other hand, shaking. The waitress pulled out her cell phone, berating herself for not charging it earlier, and cursed under her breath when she saw the screen. Despite being dead, it still displayed the message, 'Upper House has disconnected this line. Please insert 15 gold Upper House roundels to continue.'

With Zim distracted with yelling about himself, Dib grabbed a glass of water off of a nearby table and dumped it onto Zim's face. Zim screamed and tripped over the leg of the still-unconscious patron under the table. Saturday practically fell over laughing while Dib watched Zim's reaction curiously. Zim grabbed a napkin off of the floor and wiped the water off his burning skin.

"I HATE water!" he spat furiously at Dib.

Saturday doubled over laughing. Chuckling, she said, "M'dear, you're not the only one."

Struck by an idea, Zim sneered and grabbed a glass of water off the table (the unconscious patron underneath snoring away) and threw it at her. She easily dodged the cup but got a bit of water on her boots and pants. Saturday looked down at her wet pants, then glared at Zim with pure patred.

"It looks like I've peed myself, you idiot! Furthermore… Do you know how much I paid Tuesday to get these? These were the only pair in my size, and you've completely RUINED them, you green scum! And look at my boots! They're _pure starshine, _you spawn of a Nithling!"

Dib could've sworn he saw fire in her eyes. "Wait, wait, wait… the human race is at stake here, and all you can think about are your boots and pants?"

Saturday turned her venomous glare to Dib and almost screamed, "I honestly couldn't care less if the whole entire human race is so weak as to be wiped out by something as inferior as him!" She pointed her finger at Zim, then resumed, "You should be honored that I'm even taking the time to speak to a mortal like you."

Saturday was starting to get on Dib's nerves, and he was considering siding with Zim on this particular argument. The waitress threw the phone onto the ground and ran out of the diner yelling for help. The girl next to the donuts had finally given up resisting the urge to eat them and was stuffing her face with the whole plate. Zim heard the disgusting chewing noises she was making, and turned around to see where these noises were coming from, thus noticing her.

"Quit stuffing your face with that disgusting slop these humans call food; you're making me sick."

Saturday looked over at the girl and sighed angrily. "Wednesday? What in all the House are _you _doing here? Did you run out of sushi in the Border Sea?"

Wednesday stopped eating, slightly offended, and replied with her mouth still full of food. "Sundah tod meh tah wat yew." After Saturday glared at her, she swallowed and repeated, "Sunday told me to watch you, so you wouldn't get into trouble, but I found these amazing… um… what are these?"

Dib rolled his eyes and answered. "Donuts."

"Yeah, these donuts are delicious! Unbelievable, really. You should try one, Saturday." Wednesday smiled and held out the plate.

"Even if I wanted to," Saturday retorted, "I wouldn't eat one, because in case you haven't noticed, I'm arguing with these stupid mortals, AND you ate all the donuts! Don't offer me an empty plate, you swine!"

"I'm a part-time whale," Wednesday protested, and went back to eating food off of abandoned plates, even downing the rest of Saturday's abandoned hot coco.

"Wait a second…" Saturday scowled. "Did you say SUNDAY told you to watch me? Why does that ba- I mean, scumbag- want you to watch me?" Saturday looked ready to explode, and Dib noticed she had unconsciously made fists.

Using their inattention to his advantage, Zim stood up and punched Dib right between the eyes. Saturday giggled. "For a couple of mortals, you really are quite amusing. Whose side are you on, little Irken? Who is your enemy?"

"We are not amusing," Dib retorted.

"I beg to differ."

"Y'know what, Zim? I'm getting sick of her big mouth," Dib said. "Let's teach her a lesson, alien."

"Teach ME a lesson?" Saturday laughed and rolled her sleeves up. "You pathetic… I'LL be giving the lessons out around here. Prepare to get schooled."

"Truce?" Dib asked Zim.

"Temporarily," he sniffed in reply.

"GET HER!" they shouted in unison.

"Oh, dear," Wednesday groaned, half a cheeseburger in her mouth.

THE NEXT DAY

The poor waitress had not had the best of days yesterday. No matter where she went or what phone she tried, she received the same message about the Upper House- wherever or whatever it was; probably some new government branch (since the government was always expanding and whatnot)- disconnecting the line.

She was too afraid to go back to the diner after she'd briefly poked her head in and seen the woman in battle with the two odd minors. She had run away, screaming for help, but no one really paid her any attention.

At that point, she went home, preferring to face her boss over her inexplicable disappearance than confront the woman about attacking minors and disrupting public order.

That morning, however, she awoke in a cheerfully optimistic mood. She hummed a little as she made preparations for the day, ready to put the horrifying experience of yesterday behind her.

Her good mood was dashed against the rocks once she reached the diner.

It was about an inch high, completely leveled. The boy with the inhaler from yesterday was giving the police a description of the three that had started the commotion, now able to talk. "The woman had blue hair and this look on her face, like, 'I'm better than you and you'd do well to admit it right now.'"

The waitress, now jobless, shook her head. Her eyes widened, however, and her jaw dropped, when she noticed the green boy and sullen, big-headed boy hanging by their underwear from a flagpole across the street. The flag had been replaced with an ostentatious message:

DON'T QUESTION MY SUPERIORITY OR GIVE ME FAKE CHOCOLATE. HAVE A HAPPY, HAPPY SATURDAY!


End file.
